


you won't be able to see beyond it

by pinksunlight



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Confrontations, Drunken Kissing, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan & Mark Lee Are Best Friends, M/M, Making Out, and also they made out like a month ago and haven't talked abt it since anYWAYS, and because i want a girlfriend (if it isn't like this i dont want it), basically hyuck gets sexiled by nomin and needs to stay at mark's, but like they're not strong enough to tag, but mark is just. infuriatingly hot., honestly there's a point where i thought there were kinda dom/sub vibes, i mostly wrote this to practice how to write making out scenes.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:20:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27736759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinksunlight/pseuds/pinksunlight
Summary: In conclusion, getting sexiled isn't so bad.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 23
Kudos: 371





	you won't be able to see beyond it

**Author's Note:**

> "I'll rewrite this whole life and this time there'll be so much love, you won't be able to see beyond it." _Backwards_ , Warsan Shire. 
> 
> does the quote have anything to do with the fic? no. but i might start a series based on it idk yet. writing is fun but sometimes it's like haha why don't the words ever Work.

“Open the fuck _up_ , Mark Lee,” Donghyuck mutters under his breath, knocking as obnoxiously loud as he can on the door given that night has already fallen.

Mark’s RA is a stickler for his (self appointed) quiet hours rule. He’s got such a big stick up his ass that Donghyuck’s purposely gone out of his way multiple times just to get a rise out of him, but Doyoung is also terrifying when he’s genuinely angry, so Donghyuck tries not to rock the boat too much.

He takes another deep breath.

He’s at his wits end, already irked that Jeno decided to tell Donghyuck at the last possible minute that he was having Jaemin over tonight to celebrate their 86th anniversary or whatever. It’s ridiculous, those two have practically been married since they were in the womb, did Jeno really have to kick his own roommate out to celebrate something inevitable?

Even more irritating is the fact that Donghyuck had an important meeting with one of his professors today, which means he’s wearing that starchy button up shirt he hates with a passion. He hadn’t even gotten to _change._

It only makes sense that now that his only hope to get some sleep tonight (well, that’s a lie, Renjun or Yukhei would probably take him in, but Mark is just so much easier to wear down – he’s here in the interest of efficiency) is ignoring him, he’s ready to scream.

Raising his fist to the door one last time, he promises himself that if he doesn’t get an answer this time, he’ll head to Renjun’s instead and just spit in Mark’s food or something later, but his knuckles don’t meet wood when he goes to knock.

When he looks up from his phone, Renjun’s contact already pulled up, Mark is standing in front of him with a frown on his face, dark hair messy in a way that makes Donghyuck’s mouth go a little dry.

He doesn’t miss that Mark’s shirtless, and he’s wearing these grey sweatpants that fit ridiculously well, but he pretends to not notice. Because, really, he wouldn’t have cared, not if he’d been in this exact same situation three weeks ago. So he shouldn’t care now (no matter how much he does).

The way he’s firmly staring directly into Mark’s eyes is probably unsettling, but he doesn’t trust himself to look anywhere else without his eyes eventually being pulled down to Mark’s torso. Donghyuck will jump off a bridge before he admits that he finds Mark Got A Piece Of Lego Stuck In His Nose Once When He Was Six Lee even a little bit attractive.

“Did you… come here to have a staring contest.”

God, even his voice is all low and gritty, a stark contrast to his usual timbre. It makes Donghyuck’s palms sweat. Yeah, maybe sleeping here tonight was a bad idea considering his recent discovery of… feelings.

Yikes. Cringe.

“No,” Donghyuck replies without missing a beat, still not breaking eye contact. His phone buzzes in his palm. He doesn’t look.

Mark squints in suspicion, grogginess clearing from his face slowly. “Okay, then why the intense eye contact, bud?”

Somehow, being bud-zoned is worse than being dude-zoned. Donghyuck should be used to it by now, though, he’s been getting bud-zoned since kindergarten.

“What intense eye contact?”

Mark sighs, exasperated, but doesn’t look away. “Are you gonna, maybe, stop?”

“ _You_ could stop,” Donghyuck widens his eyes defiantly. In his head, there’s a really loud grinding noise. His Shirtless Mark addled brain is so stupid. It’s almost impressive.

Mark finally runs a hand over his face, effectively breaking their not-staring contest. He doesn’t ask any more questions, opting to wrap his hand around Donghyuck’s wrist and pull him into the room without warning. This also means that Donghyuck’s pulled straight into Mark’s chest, which is obviously unacceptable, so the minute the door is closed behind him he stumbles back, neglecting the safety of his skull as it knocks harshly into the wood.

“Ouch,” Mark grimaces for him, forehead creasing in concern as he takes half a step closer, hand already coming up to cradle the back of his head. “Are you good? You need to have a brain to get a concussion, so you’re probably fine there.”

Mark hasn’t even touched him before Donghyuck abruptly puts his hands on his bare shoulders, ignoring the way the contact sets fire to his insides, and jerks him back. Mark blinks in surprise.

“I’m fine,” Donghyuck reassures, aiming for collected and casual as he quickly ducks away and settles onto the bed opposite Mark’s. He should not be acting like this around his best friend, but it’s not his fault that he suddenly finds it hard to breathe around him, what the fuck! Blame that on stupid Mark Lee and his stupid inebriated impulses and –

“So, you’ve been smoking with Yukhei again.”

Donghyuck snaps his head up to find Mark crinkling his nose at him in distaste. He’s never been fond of Donghyuck’s – very minor, mind you – affiliation with substances other than alcohol. It’s very Christian of him.

“No, dumbass,” Donghyuck denies with a scowl, a sense of normalcy graciously crawling back to him. “Why would you even think that?”

“Because you’re being weird?”

“You’re the weird one! It’s the middle of winter, Minhyung, put a shirt on!” Immediately after he’s said the words, Donghyuck yearns for death.

He needs to figure out if there’s a pill that’ll make him shut up for a day. Maybe fix _his_ impulse control, because Mark may be a menace when he’s wasted, but Donghyuck is easily ten times worse perfectly sober.

He’ll ask Yukhei the next time they smoke together.

Mark rolls his eyes like Donghyuck hasn’t said the weirdest thing in the world, like they haven’t been seeing each other half naked since they used to take swimming classes in the sixth and seventh grades, and moves to his wardrobe, rifling through the hangers.

“No need to pull out the _Minhyung_. That’s what your whole thing was about, though? I was taking a nap, Hyuck,” Mark pulls a shirt out that Donghyuck vaguely recognizes. Wait a minute. No. _No._ He wasn’t really going to wear that, was he? “You know I hate sleeping with a shirt on. Plus, it always gets crazy hot in here when December rolls around.”

“That’s mine.”

Mark pokes his head through the collar of his shirt, of _Donghyuck’s_ shirt, and raises his brows in question as he pulls it down the rest of the way, “Sorry, what?”

It’s an old t-shirt, one that Donghyuck’s had for a good three years, at least. The fabric is worn, no longer soft to the touch, Donghyuck knows, and the colour has faded from a rich brown to a more washed out grey. But he’d worn it three weeks ago when he’d gone out with everyone, ignoring Renjun’s persistent nagging and insisting that it was laundry day but it didn’t matter because he looked hot anyway.

Apparently, Mark had agreed, because they’d both stumbled back into his room later that night with the taste of beer thick on their tongues and laughter spilling out of them on reflex at anything even remotely funny. Donghyuck specifically remembers the way he’d let Mark push him back onto his bed, breathlessly saying _yes, yeah, definitely_ when Mark had begun presses kisses to his neck in between giggles, asking if it was okay.

He specifically remembers Mark’s fingers impatiently unlodging his shirt from his jeans, mumbling something incoherent about fashion disasters, which just made the two of them laugh even louder. The stitch in his side was soothed by gentle hands, laughter slowly dissipating until their mouths were connected and the only noise between them were short pants for air.

And then Donghyuck specifically remembers waking up the next morning with his jeans still on but Mark, in a congruent state of undress and knocked out, laying next to him. There was a specific panic, the kind that comes with a specific realization of _holy shit I might be into my best friend,_ the kind that had Donghyuck grabbing a random sweater off the back of Mark’s chair and sprinting out of the room as quickly as he could.

When he’d come back later in the day to return the sweater, lips raw with his incessant nervous chewing, his shirt was nowhere to be seen and Mark had an easy smile on his face. They’d fallen right back into a familiar rhythm. Like nothing had ever happened.

Donghyuck swallows, feeling his ears burn at the memory. Mark’s still looking at him expectantly.

“It’s nothing, nevermind.” Donghyuck pointedly avoids looking at the shirt. Maybe Mark had been better off without it after all.

“Okay,” Mark says slowly, moving to get settled on his own bed across from Donghyuck. “Care to share why you’re here? I was having a really good dream, the least you can do is explain why I had to be woken up from it.”

“Why were you taking a nap right now, anyways? It’s late,” Donghyuck deflects.

Shit, he really needs to figure out how to justify his arrival in a way that doesn’t require him staying for a prolonged period of time. Renjun will take him in, right? He never has people over and his roommate is nothing short of a ghost, rarely spending nights in his own dorm, much like Mark’s roommate. His phone buzzes again, but he ignores it. He’s got more important things to think about, damn it.

“I fell asleep at like 7 so that I could wake up at 12. Remember that CogSci research paper I was telling you about?”

Donghyuck nods, still racking his mind. Why did the art of bullshitting always fail him when he needed it most? “The one worth a shit ton of your final grade?”

“Yeah,” Mark tosses his head back against the wall, dark eyes rooting Donghyuck to his spot. The gears in his brain sputter weakly, creaking to a stop.

There’s definitely a line between hot and sexy, despite what many people think. It’s fine and hard to see, but it’s there, and Donghyuck is certain, can feel it in his fucking bones, that Mark – throat bared, strong jawline painfully obvious, eyes half lidded – has just crossed it.

It’s kind of giving him whiplash, because Mark Lee is many things, but he’s never been _sexy_ , at least not to Donghyuck.

His breath catches in his throat when Mark pushes a hand through his hair.

“It’s nowhere near done and I have to turn in it tomorrow at midnight, so I was planning on just grinding for 24 hours and hoping it works out.”

Donghyuck’s phone starts vibrating, a call this time. He glances at it and sees Jeno’s face staring back at him.

“Dude, you didn’t answer me, though.”

Donghyuck sheepishly holds up a finger, swiping to answer the call as Mark silently _ah_ s in understanding and grabs his own phone to keep himself occupied. He definitely hasn’t dodged the bullet, but at least he’s slowed it down a little.

“Hey, I’ve been texting you. Are you okay? At Mark’s place yet?” Jeno’s voice is light enough, but even through a speaker Donghyuck can tell he’s been worried.

“Sorry about that, Jen.” Mark looks up, the corner of his mouth lifting as he waves his hand slightly. “I’m here, and Mark says hi.”

“Hi Mark!” Jeno yells, prompting Donghyuck to grimace and pull the phone away from his ear. Mark grins, clearly having heard. There’s some rustling before another voice comes on, clipped and curt. Jaemin. “Is he letting you stay?”

Donghyuck pinches the bridge of his nose. Right. Usually, Mark would be texting either of them by now, cursing them out maybe. Or warning them this is the last time he’ll take Donghyuck in (it never is). But Donghyuck has spent all his time so far actively freaking out and planning to leave, of course they’d call to check in.

“I haven’t exactly asked yet.” Mark looks up again, head tilted in confusion. Shit, he needs to be as vague as possible. The minute Mark finds out why he’s here, he’ll insist Donghyuck stay like the saint he is, completely bypassing the fact that Donghyuck will literally explode if he spends any more time within close proximity of Mark.

Jeno makes a surprised noise, Donghyuck’s probably on speaker now. “Why not? He won’t say no, you know. Or is this because of that night?”

Donghyuck squirms, avoiding eye contact with Mark and hoping Jeno’s voice doesn’t reach across the couple feet spanning between them.

Vague. Right. Okay. “The latter is fairly accurate. I think I’m just gonna… diverge, from, uh, my… usual course of action.”

Mark gives him an amused look. Donghyuck needs to hang the fuck up.

There’s silence on the other end for a few beats before a very loud Jaemin is saying, “MARK, COME HERE PLEASE!”

It’s clear that Mark’s heard, if the way he’s getting up is any indication, and Donghyuck starts panicking. Oh no, oh _fuck_. Hastily, he covers his mouth and hisses into the phone, “No, don’t say a fucking word Nana. I’ll kill you, are you listening to me? _I’ll kill you_. I’m gonna stay at Renjun’s so just mind your own business and hang the fuck up before I – ”

“Hey, Jaem,” Mark chirps from beside him. Donghyuck jumps, phone nearly slipping out of his hand. Mark’s sitting facing him, legs crossed as he leans forward and looks at the phone expectantly. “Put him on speaker.”

A millisecond of quick thinking tells Donghyuck that there’s no way to get out of this one. He forlornly presses the speaker button.

“Markus! Marcules! Markles sparkles! You recognized my voice!” Donghyuck groans at Jaemin’s suddenly saccharine tone. Beside him, Mark snorts.

“I’d recognize a Jaemin Na shriek anywhere, sadly. What’s up?”

“Well, it’s quite simple, really. Donghyuck, due to some recent developments in the romance department – “ Donghyuck chokes. “ – that he has probably not informed you of yet, despite the impossibly large role you play in said developments – ” 

“Murder,” is the only thing Donghyuck growls, instantly moving to end the call. Before he can get to it, though, Mark’s snatched the phone out of his hands entirely, holding it a good distance away.

“Is punishable by death,” he completes happily. “I, for one, want to hear what he has to say. Whatever happened to freedom of speech, Hyuck?”

Donghyuck glowers.

Jaemin is still speaking. “ – is reluctant to ask if he can spend the night at yours because me and my lovely boyfriend, Jeno Lee – you know him, right?”

A picture of the four of them at a theme park six years ago perches on Mark’s desk in a frame.

“Rings a bell,” Mark deadpans.

“Yes, well, we were looking forward to a night of romance! In case that doesn’t translate, we wanted to fuck.”

Donghyuck makes a face and Mark drops his head onto his shoulder, groaning quietly.

“Freedom of speech?” Donghyuck parrots. Mark slaps his thigh.

“We can’t though,” Jaemin rambles on dramatically, “because Jeno is a sweetheart and worries too much and needs to know that Donghyuck will have a place to spend the night. He, too, is in the know of Donghyuck’s recent developments in the romance department that have made him incapable of being normal in the face of one Ma – ”

“Jaemin Na!” Donghyuck practically screeches. Fuck Doyoung, he’s got a secret to keep. Mark’s body shakes in silent laughter and Donghyuck takes advantage of their position to smack the back of his head.

“Right. Well. The original question stands. Is Donghyuck sleeping with you tonight?”

A vibrant flush overtakes Donghyuck’s face, and he curses Jaemin’s penchant for choosing the most suggestive way to say things when Mark lifts his head from Donghyuck’s shoulder only to laugh at the way he’s gone red.

Mark swings an arm around Donghyuck’s shoulder, pulling him closer so he can say next to his ear, “That’s up to him, but he should know I’ll have him any day.”

Jaemin seems to pick up on the words, as there’s a toneless _yay_ that sounds from the phone. Donghyuck can’t even begin to think of something to say, not when Mark is so incredibly close, features soaked in something fond and sweet.

“Great. We can fuck in peace, now. Goodnight.” The line cuts immediately.

The room goes silent and Donghyuck lets the staring go on for all of three seconds before he genuinely starts thinking he’s going to overheat and rips his gaze away, shrugging Mark’s arm off half-heartedly. 

“Well, thanks for letting me stay, I guess,” he says, voice pathetically lacking strength. “You should probably work on your paper now, or something. Wake me up if you get bored or lonely, I think I’m just gonna head to bed, long day.”

Donghyuck is tired, so he’s technically not lying. Mark doesn’t have to know that he actually plans on using sleep as a method of avoidance, more than anything.

After giving him a look that Donghyuck can’t place for the life of him, Mark takes in a breath and then exhales, almost placatingly. “Sure, Donghyuck. Change first, though. You hate ironing your button ups.”

Right, because changing into Mark’s clothes definitely won’t instantly put him under a coma. He rolls his eyes, feigning indifference, “I’m exhausted. Annoyingly wrinkled shirts are a problem for future-Donghyuck, present-Donghyuck just wants to sleep.”

But right as he starts tipping back onto the mattress, confident that he’s cleared the danger zone, Mark hooks two fingers in the front of his shirt and jerks him right back up, resulting in their faces being within inches of each other.

He tries looking annoyed, but his heart betrays him, picking up speed at an abnormally fast pace. “If you’re so worried about my shirt, maybe don’t nearly rip it apart.”

Immediately, a blush creeps up to his cheeks. He really needed to start thinking before he speaks.

Mark is gracious enough to let it pass with a raised eyebrow and amused curve of his lips. His fingers curl tighter around Donghyuck’s shirt, knuckles brushing against his collarbones.

“I’m not feeling up to hearing you whine about it tomorrow, Hyuck. So if you can find it in yourself to shut up for a minute, I can save myself the trouble.” Donghyuck is just about to ask what that even means when he gets an answer in the form of Mark’s fingers slowly slipping down to undo his first button. It pops open easily, like he’s done it a million times before.

Mark pauses and looks down to his fingers and back up again almost lazily, dark eyes fixated on Donghyuck. “You’re tired, aren’t you, Hyuck?”

All Donghyuck can do is nod slowly, letting out a shaky breath.

“Cool.” Mark says it like it really is just that. Cool. Casual. Normal. He doesn’t look away when he trails his fingers down and undoes another button. When he speaks, his breath lands on Donghyuck’s skin. “Then let me help both of us out.”

So Donghyuck does.

Mark’s fingers are deft, and he only uses one hand to go through the rest of the buttons, the other resting innocently on Donghyuck’s thigh. He doesn’t look up again at Donghyuck as he pops the shirt open one button at a time, eyes tracking every new inch of exposed skin like he’s never seen Donghyuck’s torso before.

Donghyuck stays still, watching Mark as inconspicuously as possible, finding the subtle red tint to the top of his cheekbones fascinating. He only moves when Mark’s fingers drag across his skin occasionally, eliciting small shivers that aren’t easy to hide. It’s hard to feel embarrassed, though, when they coax small smiles from Mark.

Before he knows it, he’s sitting on the bed with his shirt opened up all the way. Mark’s fingers rest lightly on his abdomen, tracing shapes just above his navel, and Donghyuck steels himself before he breathes out a hesitant, “Mark?”

Upon hearing his name, his fingers still and he flicks his gaze to Donghyuck’s for a moment before slipping his hands under Donghyuck’s shirt, planting them on his shoulders.

Slowly, gently, he tips the shirt off, smoothing his hands down Donghyuck’s arms and revealing tanned skin as he goes. Air hits his back as the shirt falls away, and Mark completes the final step of tugging his hands out of the sleeves entirely so that now, the shirt is completely off.

Neither of them say anything, and then Mark cocks his head in wonder, raising a finger to the centre of his chest and letting it trace a line down, down, down.

“Have you been working out or something?” He asks softly. Donghyuck doesn’t respond to that, doesn’t say that no, he hasn’t, that his body has looked this way for the last two years or so, and Mark, more than anyone, is well aware of that.

Instead, he steadies his breathing and attempts to say, as calmly as he can, “Mark, a shirt?”

He blinks and meets Donghyuck’s gaze, looking lost like the idea of a shirt hadn’t even occurred to him. Then he looks back down to the one he’s wearing, Donghyuck’s shirt, and tugs on the hem pensively before swiftly pulling it over his head.

Oh. Okay.

They both sit shirtless on the bed for a moment, and then Mark cracks a smile, “Arms up?”

Getting the shirt onto him is much too easy and over much too quickly, Mark already running a hand through his hair to make it neat before he has time to process anything. When he’s finally done patting the stray strands down and brushing some of the hair out of Donghyuck’s eyes, Mark lets his fingers rest at Donghyuck’s nape, tugging ever so slightly.

He smiles, playful, as he leans in to tap his forehead to Donghyuck’s once. “Are you planning on making me put a shirt on again?”

Donghyuck feels hot all over, and he’s had enough. “Depends,” he murmurs, swallowing nervously, “are you planning on kissing me and then pretending it never happened again?”

Guilt flashes in Mark’s eyes for a split second like a bolt of lightning before it’s gone, being replaced by something more resolute. He lets his gaze drop now, blatant and open, to Donghyuck’s mouth. “I didn’t think you’d want to talk about it. Until now, I guess. Until Jaemin.”

Jaemin Na is a bitch, but maybe he knows what he’s doing sometimes. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

Mark slides his hand out from Donghyuck’s nape to cradle his cheek. His eyes sparkle, and he smiles in a way that makes Donghyuck’s heart drop right down to his feet. “I plan on kissing you, Donghyuck, until I’m physically incapable of pretending again.”

“Oh,” is all Donghyuck can get out, anything else he might’ve found the voice to say gets swallowed by Mark’s lips against his, soft but firm. His stomach curls in all the right ways and he tentatively brings a hand up to grip Mark’s waist, but the minute skin meets skin, a dam breaks and Donghyuck can’t get enough.

His hands travel everywhere all at once, mapping out the planes of Mark’s back until he can feel him grinning against his mouth, an unspoken _glad I’m not wearing a shirt now, aren’t you?_ passing between them. He rucks Donghyuck’s shirt up too, uncharacteristically impatient, and pushes him down on the bed with a hand flat against his stomach.

With one hand steady on his hip, Mark slides his tongue into Donghyuck’s mouth, licking into him like he’s starving for something, and Donghyuck _keens_ , fighting to keep up when his whole body simultaneously feels so tense and relaxed. It’s especially hard to get a grip when Mark pulls off a particularly impressive move involving some biting and sucking that has his blood rushing straight south.

Mark rolls his hips slow and sensual, a stark contrast to the way he kisses, and Donghyuck can’t help the breathy, “Fuck,” that gets drawn out of him when Mark hikes up a thigh between Donghyuck’s legs. He bites his lips and tries to think rationally in the brief moment their mouths aren’t connected, tries not to grind down no matter how desperately he wants to.

He pulls the back of Mark’s hair to stop him from mouthing lazily at his neck and pants, “Your paper.”

Donghyuck expects a lot of things to happen. Mark immediately jumping off and rushing to start his paper, Mark diving back in to kiss him, Mark griping dramatically about killing the mood.

But what he doesn’t expect is the way Mark’s eyes slowly light up like a Christmas tree, the way he sits back on Donghyuck’s thighs with what has to be the world’s most contented smile, the way he cradles Donghyuck’s face tenderly between his hands.

What he doesn’t expect is for Mark to laugh suddenly, the flush on his sternum darkening as he says with simple conviction, “I don’t know how to tell you half the things that are racing through my head right now, but I like you so, so much, Donghyuck Lee.”

It’s absolutely exhilarating.

“Well,” Donghyuck bites back a smile, “you’d be stupid not to, really. I’m lovely. Perfectly pleasant.”

“Mm, humble, too,” Mark shoots back, fingers crawling up his shirt to pinch his sides. Donghyuck yelps and fidgets under Mark’s weight, but he’s not upset. He could never be upset, not now when he feels like he’s floating on cloud nine, giddy out of his mind.

They look at each other for a sickeningly sweet amount of time, equally excited smiles on both their faces before Mark leans back down to press a kiss to Donghyuck’s lips. “Seriously, though. You were right, my final.”

“I’m not gonna lie, I was half hoping we’d just keep making out.”

Mark grins, “I would, trust me, but it would undoubtedly lead to a much more time consuming – how did Jaemin put it? – night of romance.”

He leaves a trail of kisses up Donghyuck’s throat, leading right to his earlobe which Mark bites gently. “And, just in case that didn’t translate, we’d – “

Donghyuck instantly pushes him back and slaps a hand over his mouth, wondering if his best friend has always been such a fucking flirt. Dumb, awkward Mark Lee. Jesus Christ. “It translated. Definitely translated. Please stop talking. God, you’re worse than Jaemin.”

Mark pulls them up into a sitting position, licking Donghyuck’s palm so that he takes it off his mouth. “What happened to resident campus flirt, Donghyuck Lee? Cat got your tongue?”

“No, actually,” Donghyuck huffs. “You did. Several times. Mark got my tongue. Better yet, Mark sucked my tongue. You call yourself a child of god?”

“I do. Jury’s out on how much longer I’ll be able to, though.” Mark gets off Donghyuck and sits on the bed, poking at Donghyuck cheek when he frowns at the loss of warmth. “It might be hard to maintain the title if I’m dating you.”

Donghyuck doesn’t need a mirror to know that his eyes shine. “Dating. Me.”

“Yeah,” Mark laughs, lacing their hands together. “Dating. You. Is that okay?”

“Won’t all the juniors hate me for taking Mark Lee off the market?”

“Trust me when I say they’ve known I was yours for a long time.” Donghyuck prays that Mark can’t feel his pulse pick up. “I’m a little worried about the sophomores jumping me, though.”

“That, I understand,” Donghyuck manages to get out, laughing when Mark shoves him. “What? I’m a total catch.”

Mark submits easily, “You are.”

He dips back in to kiss Donghyuck, and when he starts sucking hickeys onto Donghyuck’s neck, it’s incredibly hard to resist giving in to the temptation of making out for the next few hours. But Mark’s laptop is staring at him out of the corner of his eye, so he finds the strength to detangle their bodies, kissing the frown off Mark’s lips instantly.

“If you start working on the paper right now, I’ll let you leave hickeys anywhere you want later. You can fulfill all your teething baby vampire fantasies to your heart’s desire.” Donghyuck’s resolve staggers a little when Mark’s hands pointedly squeeze his thighs.

“Anywhere?”

“Yes, yeah. But – but you have to finish first. Good?”

“Absolutely.”

(Donghyuck’s thighs stay red and blotchy for days after Mark manages to finish his paper. He regrets nothing.)

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/punksunlight)


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